Sea Monster Devours, Spits Out Hero in Baroque Spectacle: Review

Sarah Connolly as Phedre and Topi Lehtipuu as Hippolyte in Rameau's opera "Hippolyte et Aricie." The opera runs at the Palais Garnier through July 9. Photographer: Agathe Poupeney/Opera National de Paris via Bloomberg

The dispute between “Lullistes” and “Rameauneurs” -- a
pun: ramoneurs are chimney sweeps -- was one of the 18th
century’s great musical quarrels.

In the 19th century, the “tragedies en musique” by both
Lully and Rameau disappeared from the repertory. It has only
been in the past few decades that William Christie, John Eliot
Gardiner and other champions of the period-instrument school put
them back on the map.

The basis of “Hippolyte et Aricie” is the most famous of
French classical tragedies, Racine’s “Phedre.”

Phaedra lusts after her stepson Hippolytus. At the false
news that her husband Theseus is dead she confesses her passion.
Hippolytus, who’s in love with Aricia, brusquely rejects her.

When Theseus unexpectedly returns, Phaedra accuses
Hippolytus of having attempted to rape her. Theseus has his son
killed, and a remorseful Phaedra poisons herself.

Baroque Spectacle

What the audience at the premiere of Rameau’s opera
expected was more than just a musical rehash of Racine’s play.
They wanted a show with dances, pomp and special effects. Rameau
obliged and also came up with another novelty -- a happy ending.

Theseus, therefore, isn’t just absent: We follow him into
the Underworld where he pleads for a friend before Pluto and his
infernal court.

Other gods, too, take sides in the erotic tug-of-war: Cupid
argues for free love, Neptune prevents Theseus from killing
himself, and Diana rescues Hippolytus from the belly of a sea
monster that has swallowed him.

Ivan Alexandre, the director, and Antoine Fontaine, the set
designer, have magnificently risen to the challenge.

Not only have they resisted the temptation to update the
story and make it more “relevant” to a modern audience.
They’ve enthusiastically jumped at the chance to let Baroque
theater magic shine in its full glory.

Floating Clouds

Painted clouds majestically sail through the sky, gods
descend from Heaven or rise from Hell, and the painted sea
disgorges a wonderfully weird monster.

It’s great fun, with just the right pinch of ironic
nostalgia.

The elaborate costumes (Jean-Daniel Vuillermoz) could have
stepped out of a canvas by Watteau or Gainsborough.

The opera has longueurs. Half of the endless dances that
slow down the action could easily be cut.

The real problem is the voices. The period-instrument world
has attracted an army of singing lightweights who never would
have dared to dream of a stage career before.

Most of the gods produce decidedly ungodly noises. The
humans are better. By far the most impressive is Stephane
Degout: His Thesee is powerfully declaimed and beautifully sung.

Sarah Connolly’s Phedre, though strongly characterized, has
a hint of shrillness. Topi Lehtipuu and Anne-Catherine Gillet in
the title roles are bland.